Cubicle Wars
by redlamps
Summary: This is the fourth in a series of short stories. It's a prequel to Courting With Disaster. Can be read as a stand alone. Steph learns the meaning of being 'professional'...the hard way.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: _A huge thanks to Alf, Haleigh.l, Bluzie and Boy-o for editing and support.

_xx Not mine, not making any money __xx_

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**Cubicle Wars**

**pro·fes·sion·al**_\prə-ˈfe-shə-n__ə__l\ 1. exhibiting a courteous, conscientious, and generally businesslike manner in the workplace. 2. participating for gain or livelihood in an activity or field of endeavour often engaged in by amateurs._

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**Chapter One**

God, I lived for moments like this…any second now….wait for it…in five, four, three, two, one…a-a-and cue Merry Men.

"**STEPHANIE!"** Angry men in black shouted in unison as they stood up peering over the tops of their cubicle dividers glaring in my direction.

Taking a deep breath I pinched my arm until I was certain I had curbed the uncontrollable desire to burst out laughing. _Ouch, frick that hurt!_ Donning a straight face—the picture of innocence—I stood up from my chair.

"Hey guys, what's up?" My voice was so sickeningly sweet you could've poured it over pancakes. _Mmmmm, pancakes…damn it. Focus, Steph, focus!_

"Okay, I don't know _what_ you did to our computers, but you are going to fix it….**NOW!**" Lester, the designated spokesman, said deepening his voice in an obvious, and might I add, unsuccessful attempt to be threatening.

"Why whatever do you mean?" I feigned bewilderment. "I'm going to go make some tea. Excuse me while I go turn—on—the—faucet—in—the—Break—Room." The last words were forced out through gritted teeth.

Bobby stepped forward with his hands held up in a conciliatory manner. "Look Bombshell…Steph…we said we were sorry. It was a harmless prank. Can't you take a little joke?" Clearly Bobby was the Good Cop to Lester's Bad Cop shtick. _Pfft, like I've never watched Law and Order._ _Amateurs_.

"Steph, this was just a little initiation into the RangeMan family, so to speak." Bobby wore what I assumed was supposed to be an apologetic smile. I snorted in disbelief. His remorseful act might have worked except for the fact that a few days ago I found a bunch of them, Bobby included, in the Control Room watching a replay of my little water mishap and laughing their asses off.

"Oh sure Bobby, I can take a joke." My voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Taping down the lever on the hand sprayer in the Break Room so when I turned on the faucet I got soaked, was freaking hilarious. Need I remind you that I had on a white t-shirt at the time, while I was waiting for Ella to bring me my new uniforms."

His eyes glazed over and his voice was reduced to what sounded like a reverent whisper. "Bombshell, you in that black, lace, unlined, demi bra from Victoria Secret's Intimissimi collection is an image that's been burned into my brain for eternity." He licked his lips. "For purely academic reasons if you don't mind my asking, were you also wearing the matching 'lacy and smooth' panties?" As he waited for my answer, he looked like a kid at Christmas dying to open a present.

I squinted my eyes and leaned closer to get a better look at his face. _Was that…drool coming out of the side of his mouth?_

"Grrrr, men!" I stomped off to the Break Room to grab a muffin before some chucklehead decided to sabotage them as well. This office prank war was soooo on!

It all started a few weeks ago when '_someone_' thought it would be funny to tamper with my office supplies. For an entire week—every single day—I was the victim of so called 'harmless office fun'. My stapler had no staples, my paper clips were linked in one huge chain, the tape in my tape dispenser had been cut through in several places so I couldn't get a decent sized piece of tape. These were only some of the indignities that I took in my stride. I tried to be professional about everything…I was, after all, the new kid on the block since I'd added computer searches to the other odd jobs I now did at RangeMan. I conducted myself in a courteous and business-like manner while at the office and even laughed along with the guys about these 'little jokes' at my expense until..._**that **_day.

On _**that**_ day, I was running late for a RangeMan meeting so when I arrived at the Conference Room everyone had already been seated and Ranger was in the middle of a case briefing. Some big wig F.B.I. reps were there, as this case overlapped with one of their investigations. I tip-toed into the room with my cup of coffee in hand, sending Ranger an apologetic smile and took the last seat which just so happened to be beside Ranger. All eyes followed me as I walked the length of the Conference Room to take my seat, just a tad self-conscious. Of course me sitting down occurred during a lull in conversation which brought my impending mortification to everyone's attention. If I _ever_ find out who put that whoopee cushion on my seat well…I…I..I don't know what I'll do…but it'll be really, really bad!

Did I mention that when I jumped up out of my chair, I spilt my coffee all over Ranger's lap? Yeah, and well of course I couldn't leave my utter humiliation there…noooo…I had to take it a step further. As Ranger stood up, without thinking, I tried to wipe his pants—well his crotch really—with my hands…in front of everyone! Did I also mention that my very pert and visible nipples were the first body part to actually realize that I was basically stroking Ranger's…well, stroking Ranger? It took my brain a good thirty seconds to catch up with my hands. God, if there were ever 'do over' days in life that would be mine.

_**That**_ day was when I began my own version of office 'payback's a bitch'. I started with small things like replacing the sugar in the dispenser with salt, taking all of the toilet paper out of the bathrooms and signing up the guys for gay porn sites. But my favourite was the day I brought Grandma Mazur in to work with me. Talk about quality footage for the next RangeMan Christmas party! Yeah, I was playing dirty, but they started it.

I knew that after this last little prank involving their computers, I'd have to be on high alert, constantly aware of my surroundings. Ranger would be proud, well of the 'aware of my surroundings' part at least. To thwart future retribution for my latest assault—_hehe, I was starting to sound like Ranger_—I needed a plan…and I needed a snitch, an insider, a stool pidgeon, a lackey. The question was who? Back at my desk, I tapped my pen on the pad of paper in front of me, while I went through a list of possible suckers—I mean, informants. To be successful, I needed to find the weakest link in the Merry Man chain.

Hmmm…Hector's name was crossed off the list immediately; being gay meant my feminine wiles wouldn't have an effect on him. Tank and the rest of upper management would be on to me too. Damn. I crossed three more names off the list. I looked down thoughtfully at the remainder of the names and began crossing off more people. It was safe to assume that I should probably stick to only the newer hires who didn't know me very well; they would be much easier to dupe. And that left, I played a drum roll on the edge of my desk…Binkie!

Yes! Even I was amazed at the sheer genius of this choice. Binkie had recently suffered some temporary damage to his vocal cords from a take-down gone wrong. A grease fire erupted in a skirmish with an uncooperative skip which resulted in Binkie inhaling large quantities of smoke. This meant he was on straight desk duty and, on Doctor's orders, couldn't talk. Hehe… Binkie couldn't tell anyone what I was up to. I put my pinky finger up to the corner of my lips and gave my best sinister laugh. _Where was a hairless cat you could stroke when you needed one?_

I got ready to pay my future informant a visit. Bending over at the waist in my chair, I hoisted up my boobs to make the most of my push-up bra. Reaching in my purse, I got out a bottle of Visine and put a couple of drops into each eye allowing the clear liquid to run down my cheeks before heading out on my recon mission.

Snickering to myself, I walked past cubicles filled with frustrated Merry Men trying to get their computer mouses, erm, mice?—or would it be meases—to work. I glanced inside Hector's cubicle as I walked by…he actually had his computer in pieces! Not one of the brainiacs thought to look under the bottom of the mouse. With a package of small post-it notes I had simply and effectively rendered all of the computers on the fifth floor at RangeMan useless. The paper stuck to the bottom of the computer mouse, made the track ball ineffective. I wondered how long it would take them to figure out my little joke and I was sure they were already planning some dastardly evil reprisal.

Well, that didn't matter right now…I kept my eye on the target while I crept closer. Binkie, the poor bastard, was trying to get his computer mouse to work when I came up behind him. I leaned over so that my breasts brushed against his arm as I grabbed a couple of tissues and sat down in the chair beside him. I could see his whole body tense and I watched him shift uncomfortably in his seat. I felt sorry for him…almost. _Hey_,_ he was also one of the jokers laughing at me in the Com Room. And I'm sure I saw money change hands._

"Hi, Binkie." I sniffed and took a few stuttered breaths. He looked up at me, concern etched in his face.

"Everyone hates me now don't they?" I began sobbing into my tissue in earnest. "Binkie, you're a great guy. I know you didn't have anything to do with those stupid pranks the guys have been pulling." _Yeah….and Grandma Mazur has naturally pink senior's hair! _ "I feel t-t-terrible about what I did to the computers. Here let me fix yours." I lifted up his mouse and took off the small post-it note stuck to the bottom.

I sat up straight and gave a big, chest heaving sigh…and then another one for good measure. "I'm worried about what the other guys are going to do to me Binkie. Do you think you could text me if you hear anything?" I batted my eyelashes and leaned forward to pick off some imaginary lint from my pant leg, giving Binkie a clear view down my scoop neck top. He reluctantly nodded his head and I jumped up and hugged him.

"Thanks Binkie, I knew I could count on you."

_. . . ._

I woke up to my cell phone vibrating with a text message on the bedside table. Glancing at the clock, I groaned and flipped open my phone. _Who the hell was leaving a message at five o'clock in the morning? _ A smile broke across my face as I read the message. Good old Binkie! Now to plan my counterattack…

_**To be continued…**_

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Thanks for reading, I would love it if you left a review!


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: _A huge thanks to Alf, Haleigh.l, Bluzie and Boy-o for editing and support.

. . . . .

**Cubicle Wars**

_. . . . ._

_**Chapter Two**_

After a quick stop at my parent's house—well, their garage to be exact—I drove to work feeling giddy with anticipation. If everything worked out as planned, the guys wouldn't know what hit them. I was thankful I didn't have to worry about Ranger since he was going to be out of town on business for a few days.

Grabbing the big duffle bag from my trunk, I rode the elevator up to the fifth floor giving a little finger wave to the guys in the Control Room. I stepped out of the elevator and took stock of my surroundings. Hmmm, it was still early but it looked like everyone was already at the office working away in their cubicles seemingly oblivious to my presence. _Yeah, riiight…_

Though the Merry Men all appeared to be busy, I could feel their eyes following me. I crossed the office with trepidation, stopping in front of my work space. Well damn! You had to give the guys kudos for effort and the 'wow' factor. Not totally imaginative—filling my cubicle completely with packing peanuts—it was nevertheless an effective and inspired prank. They had secured a clear plastic sheet over my entry way so that the area could be filled to the very top with the little Styrofoam pieces.

Taking a deep breath…it was now or never. _And the Oscar for Best Actress in a Fan Fiction goes to…_

"Oh my goodness, what have you done to my cubicle. How will I ever get my work done? What will I do?" I said in my best Scarlett O'Hara imitation as I drew the back of my hand up to my forehead. Merry Men throughout the floor peered over their cubicles snickering at my 'plight'.

Lester came up beside me putting his arm around me. "Beautiful, what do you say we call an end to this prank war. No one's going to think less of you for throwing in the towel. There's no shame in admitting you got in over your head. I mean it's not really fair is it, one little girl from the Burg against all of the brain power of RangeMan." _Oh, he did not just say that. This jerk was toast!_

I smiled at him and then pulled out of my jean's pocket a long, thin strip of black material that I tied around my head, a la Rambo. Reaching into the large duffle bag I'd brought, I pulled out my dad's leaf blower and plugged it in to the nearest outlet. Lester just looked on in bewilderment, doing a damn good goldfish imitation.

"Oh I dunno, Lester, I've never been one to just give up." _Okay,_ _so he didn't have to know about my many failed attempts at going on a diet..er, or exercising._ "You know someone once said that a professional is an amateur who didn't quit…and I don't really see myself as a quitter." I smiled into the nearest security camera and gave a middle finger salute before ripping down the plastic blocking the entrance to my cubicle. I let the leaf blower rip.

Holy Winter Wonderland, Batman! My devious counter-attack worked even better than I ever could've imagined as I sent packing peanuts shooting EVERYWHERE! The office looked like the inside of a snow globe. Man, those little Styrofoam suckers could really fly! The guys stood dumbfounded with their mouths hanging open as I moved the blower back and forth in a sweeping motion sending an explosion of chips high into the air. A tap on my shoulder broke me from my deranged reverie. I turned to see which Merry Man had enough balls to actually get that close to me in my maniacal state…_Ranger_.

"Ohhhhhh fuuu…dge!" At least that's what I hoped it sounded like over the sound of the leaf blower. I pressed the off button and lowered my 'weapon'.

"Ranger, you're back from your trip. Good flight? It's been quiet around here without you." Maybe he wouldn't notice that the fifth floor had been blanketed in a layer of white chips. I glanced around the office…okay, probably not.

He looked me up and down taking note of my headband and the leaf blower in my hand.

"Explain."

"Um, ha ha, I could tell you Ranger, but then I'd have to kill you." I tittered and could feel my eye twitch with a nervous tic. _Ugh, I seemed to do that a lot around Ranger. _I looked at him for a reaction, hoping for something of the chuckling variety. Nothing. Damn this man really needed to find a sense of humour...and fast.

I sighed. "Just a little joke between me and the guys, Ranger."

"Santos, clean this up. When I come back I don't want to see a single paperclip out of place." Ranger used his very effective 'the mere sound of my voice, will make you crap your pants' tone. He turned to me. _Oh_ _Shit!_

"Stephanie, seventh floor. We need to discuss your future at this company." Damn. I was so going to get canned. Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded my head in agreement, afraid that if I opened my mouth, I'd start bawling. I followed a few paces behind Ranger as I watched him pull out his cell phone and talk quietly into the receiver. Well, I guess I could be thankful that he didn't ream me out in front of the guys. I may not have a roof over my head next month but at least I had my pride…and my shoes. The elevator ride up was silent and I took great care to avoid making eye contact. _Yeah, I really screwed up this time._

Ranger and I had been spending more time together at work and it felt like I was really getting to know him. Since the DiSanti incident, he had pretty much become my sole partner on stake-outs which gave us lots of time to talk. _Who knew his vocabulary extended beyond 'Yo' and 'Babe'. _He was even loosening up a bit around me and I actually got him to take a bite of a Krimpet! I just prayed this dumb prank didn't jeopardize our growing friendship.

I shuffled along behind him as he unlocked the apartment and I followed him in.

"Go sit in the living room. I'll be with you in a minute," Ranger said as he headed for his office.

Still unable to find my voice, I nodded and went to sit down on the couch. Hey, if I was going to be canned, I might as well be comfortable right? After five minutes had past, there were no finger nails to speak of on either hand and I was beginning to wonder if my toes would reach my mouth. Ranger came out of the office just as there was a knock on the door. He opened it and took a tray from Ella; then, he joined me on the couch.

My eyes bugged out when I noticed a big bowl of popcorn, a can of soda and a bottle of water on the tray. He placed it on the coffee table and picked up the remote control turning the flat screen TV on to an internal live video feed of the fifth floor. I watched the screen in horror as Merry Men were on their hands and knees picking up the foam chips and putting them in huge piles on the floor around the office.

"Ranger, I'm so, soo sorry…I—." He placed a finger on my lips.

"Babe, I'm proud of you. Those knuckleheads have been asking for it since you started back working in the office. I wondered how long it would take you to stand up for yourself. You're going to fit in here at RangeMan just fine." Then...he started to laugh. Okay, well maybe it was a crinkle around his eyes, the upturn of his lips and the slightest shaking of his shoulders but that translated into rolling around on the floor in side splitting hilarity for a normal person.

"But Ranger—"

"Shhh, Babe, we're missing all the action." With that he handed me the soda and picked up the bowl of popcorn, settling in beside me. We sat there for over an hour watching the guys clean up the fifth floor while Ranger kept up a running commentary of the poor bastards hard at work.

When it looked like they were almost done, Ranger pulled out his cell phone and pressed some numbers.

"Luis, have you been watching the fifth floor monitor? Yeah…they've been punking Steph for a while now." He winked at me and chuckled. "Now might be a good time to test the new central air conditioning system. What do you think?" He paused. "Maximum output sounds about right." He snapped his phone shut and then grabbed the bottle of water.

I looked at him quizzically.

"Just watch, Babe. Time for an encore." I could hear a low humming coming from the video feed; then, those huge piles of Styrofoam chips started moving slowly at first until the chips picked up speed and began swirling and scattering throughout the office. Merry Men, looked on with expressions of horror frozen on their faces as they attempted to throw themselves on the piles in ill-fated attempts to keep the Styrofoam peanuts from blowing away. I doubled over with laughter as tears streamed down my face. We watched as the men huddled together and after much gesturing on Binkie's part where he did a lot of chest poking, the guys hung their head and picked up white pieces of computer paper, waving them in surrender.

"Have they had enough, Babe?"

"Yeah Ranger, I think they've learned a valuable lesson today." Ranger made another call and like magic the sound of the fans stopped and the chips floated to the floor.

_. . . . ._

**Epilogue**

For the first time in…well, probably forever, I was up before my alarm. I looked out my bedroom window. It was a dank, dreary, drizzly Monday morning, with the sun nowhere in sight. I sat up and stretched before bouncing out of bed with a goofy grin on my face. Could there be a more glorious day?

The weekend had been wonderful. As part of their unconditional surrender, the Merry Men had agreed to 'volunteer' at a charity car wash with the proceeds going to the Trenton Senior Center. Grandma had gathered all of her friends from the Clip and Curl together to get their cars washed and ogle the fine male specimens. Damn, I was glad that I'd added the shirtless, speedo clause. Ranger was nice enough to help me draft up the official document he called the 'Surrender at Discretion'. He's a cunning bastard which is one the reasons I lo…um...er…like him so much…in a purely non-sexual, friendly way.

I don't think the guys will ever sign a document again without first reading the fine print. From their constant grumbling that day, I figured they'd missed the subsection that stipulated sunscreen was to be applied by appointed third parties, aka Grandma Mazur and friends, every two hours. A-a-and, they probably missed the really, really fine print that gave the first party (me) permission to photograph parties of the second part (that would be very hot speedo clad Merry Men) including the publishing and distribution of said photographs. Ranger had assured me he was in possession of top of the line telephoto equipment.

By late Saturday afternoon, with no end in sight to the line of cars waiting to get washed, the guys were getting a little testy. It finally occurred to them that it was the second and even third time for some of these cars to come through to get washed. Apparently, Grandma and her friends had been driving their sparkling clean cars around the back of the Senior Center and throwing mud on their cars just so they could get in line again. On the bright side, the Merry Men raised over one thousand dollars for the Senior Center and Grandma had given me a free pass from driving her to viewings for the next month. _Can you say win, win?_

At the end of a long grueling day it took the Merry Men all of two seconds to give up the name of their ring leader. I had a planned a special somethin' somethin' for him.

I smiled to myself as I parked my car in the underground parking at Haywood and headed for the elevator. Pressing the up button, I waited, giving a little finger wave to the guys in the Control Room. I could hear distant music getting louder as I watched the numbers light up indicating the elevator's descent. I began to sing along to the growing sound of the Bee Gees as I put the digital camera up to my eye waiting…

"Ah, ah, ah, ah stayin' alive, stayin' alive."

As the elevator doors opened, I was treated to a scene from an 80's disco complete with spinning mirrored ball, flashing coloured lights and a disco dancing Lester, clad in a bell-bottomed, white, polyester three piece suit over a black silk shirt. As he approached his big finish—the classic John Travolta finger-pointing poise—I happily snapped pictures.

"Going up," Lester said, ever the good sport.

He pulled me in to the elevator. The music resumed and we danced the Hustle together as the doors closed.

_. . . . ._

_**A week later…**_

Ad found in the classified section of **The Times** serving Trenton and surrounding areas:

**Professional Office Prankster: **

**Are you tired of being the butt of workplace jokes? Want revenge on co-workers who take pranking too far? I make typical office pranks look like ' Amateur Hour'. Guaranteed results. Testimonials from reformed jokesters available upon request. Reasonable rates. Cases taken on an individual basis. Evidence of being a pranking victim a must. Trenton area, call 55J-OKESonU for an interview, ask for Steph or leave a message. **

_**The End.**_

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_A/N: Yes, reality is often stranger than fiction. I couldn't make this stuff up…well, I could but why bother when real life is sooo delicious! On Youtube search "I WORK FOR PEANUTS" and "DISCO ELEVATOR - REMI GAILLARD"_


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